


Double-edged Sword

by MobiAblackout



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Angst, Doctor dier, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Why Did I Write This?, marcus and neymar don't talk about the weather in this, they talk about babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 06:17:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18277490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MobiAblackout/pseuds/MobiAblackout
Summary: Neymar and Jesse are both expecting, but things don't turn out the same for both of them.





	1. Chapter 1

Kylian slides into bed next to Neymar, making him stir and roll over onto his back, blinking up at him with sleepy eyes, the morning light makes his green eyes almost golden. “Kylian?” he says with raspy voice.

“Shh, it’s me.” Kylian nudges Neymar back over onto his side with a hand on his hip, something he always does to display his protectiveness.

Neymar goes willingly enough, murmuring quietly. “What were you doing?”.

“Just making sure everything was locked up downstairs and running the dishwasher.” Kylian whispers, one arm slipping around Neymar’s waist, hand resting on his belly. His fingers stroke over the tiny, barely-there curve, making Neymar squirm against him.

“You can’t even feel anything. I’m barely pregnant.” Neymar complains, but his hand rests over Kylian’s, twining their fingers together, squeeze his hand a little, just enough to show there are going to be link together with the baby. Forever.

“I can feel enough. I know our baby is in there.” Kylian presses a kiss to the back of Neymar’s tattooed neck, nosing at the soft skin he finds there, he feels content more than ever.

Neymar shifts back against Kylian, soaking in his warmth. “Mm, yeah. Our baby. I like that.” Smilling at him, he looks blissful. Kylian continues stroking his fingers over Neymar’s abs, lulling them both to sleep.

 

Kylian groans and stumbles his way out of bed the next morning, shuffling into the kitchen with a yawn. “Yes, Isco. I’ll be over there soon. I promise. Okay. Okay. Goodbye, Isco.” Neymar hangs up his cell phone and and smiles at Kylian. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Kylian drops down into his chair and yawns again.

Neymar puts a cup of coffee and a plate full of bacon and eggs and toast in front of him. “I have a client meeting this afternoon and Isco needs me to go over there to help him with some recipe, so I’m going over there in a few minutes.” Kylian nods, already stuffing his face. Neymar passes him a napkin with a sigh. Kylian grins around a mouthful of bacon.

Neymar shuffles some papers around on the table before gathering them all in a stack and putting them in his briefcase. He comes around to Kylian’s side of the table and picks up the napkin, wiping at Kylian’s face. “sometimes you’re just a baby.” chuckling to himself.

Kylian just shrugs and swallows his food before leaning up for a kiss. Neymar gives it to him and starts to move away, but Kylian tugs on his wrist. Neymar turns back to him, confusion in his eyes as Kylian tugs his shirt up, pressing a kiss to his belly. Neymar rolls his eyes, but he smiles fondly down at Kylian, stroking a hand over his head before straightening his shirt and heading for the door. “Don’t forget that we have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow! The first ultrasound!” Kylian calls out.

“I already cleared my schedule for it. I’ll be home this evening.” Neymar calls back, opening the front door.

“Love you!” Kylian shouts, loading up a piece of toast with eggs.

  

“Love you too.” Neymar shuts the door behind him and heads off to Isco’s place, wondering what on earth the other man is concocting this time.

 

 

“Marcus, I am so sick of being pregnant, I could scream.” Jesse complains, waddling into the living room and dropping heavily down onto the couch, he feels soar and frustrated, he just wants the baby to come out right now, few months ago he loved being pregnant standing in front of mirror looking at his belly for hours taking dozen pictures in every angle possible, it felt amazing to have a human growing inside of you evidences your love, but right now he feels exhausted. Not so fun anymore.

“I know. You tell me this at least four times a day.” Marcus complains with a sigh, looking at him like a he's failed science project, finally finds his hoodie he's been looking for in Jesse stuffs.

“It’s all your fault. You knocked me up. Made me huge.” Jesse grumbles and pouts, hands resting on his belly stroking it softly, hope to find out the little toes sometimes poke at his skin.

“I don’t remember you complaining at the time.” Marcus smirks at him, shoving a pair of gym shorts in his workout bag finally put the hoodie on after being shirtless for hours. There’s another thing that makes him miserable, he is sexually frustrated, sure they still do something like sucking each other off but Jesse wants real sex, damn Marcus and his perfect body.

Jesse flips him off. “I can still blame you. You’re still the cause of this.” he says as he rolls his eyes so hard that he can see back of his head.

“I know you will. I have a few training sessions today, so I won’t have my phone on me much, but you know you can call Ander and he’ll get me should you need anything.” Marcus says, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Jesse opens his mouth to say something, but Marcus cuts him off. “No, food emergencies don’t count. Call Paul or Kylian for those.”

Jesse pouts up at him. “That’s mean.” He is pregnant for god sake, he wishes his mom was here to take care of him.

“I know. I’m terrible. You need anything before I leave?” Marcus asks sweetly.

“Hand me my phone? I’m gonna call Kylian, see if he’s going down to the garage today.” Jesse points towards the end of the couch where his cell phone is balanced on the arm.

Marcus picks it up and hands it to him. “Anything else, your majesty?”

“No, you’re free to go.” Jesse waves him off and scrolls through his contacts before landing on Kylian.

Marcus leans down for a kiss and Jesse presses into it briefly before dropping back down against the couch as Marcus kisses the swell of his belly, patting it gently, grinning when the baby kicks for him. Jesse huffs, shifting. “You’re making him kick vital organs over here.”

Marcus rolls his eyes. “I’ll be home for dinner. Play nice with Kylian.”

Jesse waves him off, already calling Kylian as Marcus leaves. “Hey, Kyky. You going to the garage today?”

 

An hour later, as promised, Kylian is letting himself into Rashford-Lingard’s house. “Hey, Jesse. I’m here!” He shout as he take off his jacket.

“I’m in the living room!” Jesse shouts back and Kylian heads in there.

“You still feel like going to the garage today?” Kylian asks, watching as Jesse shovels a handful of popcorn with what looks like spray cheese on it in his mouth, watching Friends for probably the hundredth time without batting an eye, it’s the one where Rachel gives a birth.

“Definitely. Let me finish this episode though.” Jesse says around a mouthful of kernels, curling his toes that poke out of pink fluffy blanket on his lap.

“Are you eating popcorn with squirt cheese on it?” Kylian asks, taking a seat on the couch with Jesse and peering into the bowl Jesse is holding.

“Yes and I’m not sharing. Perks of being pregnant. I don’t have to share my food anymore.” Jesse cradles the bowl to his chest, it’s not like he did before getting pregnant.

“You can definitely keep that all to yourself, man.” Kylian chuckles and settles in to watch the rest of Friends with Jesse.

 

“Yeah, yeah. You ready to go?” Kylian asks after they finish the episode, getting up and taking the bowl into the kitchen and coming back with a damp cloth for Jesse to wipe his hands on, so he wouldn’t have to waddle all the way into the kitchen.

“I’m ready.” Jesse nods, reaching up for Kylian’s arm. Kylian heaves Jesse to his feet, steadying him with a hand on his lower back and guides him out of the house, taking Jesse’s keys so he can lock up. He unlocks the doors of the Beast and helps Jesse in, shutting the door and walking around to his side of the truck.

He gets in and starts it, pulling out of the driveway. He glances over and eyes the straining seat belt along Jesse’s belly, he looks huge. “You’re just about ready to pop, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea. I’m so fucking over being pregnant. This child needs to get here.” Jesse huffs, eyeing his belly.

“I can’t wait for Ney to start showing. I just know he’s going to be huge. He’s so fucking tiny, but he’s going to get fucking big!” Kylian grins, drumming his hands on the wheel at a red light.

“He’s gonna look like he swallowed a basketball.” Jesse snickers, hands rubbing at his belly.

“I know! It’s gonna be so great.” Kylian aims a brilliant grin at Jesse, Kylian looks like a kid to Jesse, he’s only twenty, he has no idea how Neymar is going to manage with two baby at the same time, although he knows Kylian can be so much more mature than Neymar and its not like Marcus isn’t just twenty one, Damn both him and Neymar for falling in love with two kids.

“Hey, he’s kicking. Wanna feel?” At a red light, Jesse grabs Kylian’s hand and puts it on his belly, wincing slightly as the baby kicks hard. Kylian taps gently on the side of Jesse’s belly and the baby kicks back.

Kylian laughs, delighted. “He’s already smart.”

“Guess he got that from Marcus.” Jesse says, shifting in his seat, he feels slightly soar for sitting in the car.

“You did light your eyebrows on fire once.” Kylian nods, pulling into the parking lot of garage.

“One time! One time and no one ever lets me live it down!” Jesse complains, opening the truck door and waiting for Kylian to come around and help him out.

“Well, what did you expect? We all told you not to do the thing and you did it anyway. When even I’m telling you not to do it, you probably shouldn’t do it. Just a thought.” Kylian scolds lightly as he guides Jesse into the work area.

“Whatever. What are you working on today?” Jesse asks, settling into his usual chair beside Kylian’s work station. Kylian begins telling him about the engine he’s been working on for the last few days and he gets comfortable, listening to Kylian talk and trying to absorb as much information as he can. All in all, it’s shaping up to be a pretty good day.

 

Neymar shifts on his stool again, lower back aching dully. He takes another sip of water and straightens his spine a little, wincing as the ache intensifies. Isco is chattering on and on about the complicated menu this couple wanted for their wedding and usually, Neymar would be listening, but the ache is rather distracting. He stands up, pacing around a bit, hoping that he just slept wrong last night. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of his mind though that says Something Isn’t Quite Right. He picks up his glass of water from the bar and takes another sip, one hand pressed against the small of his back as he stretches. A lightening bolt of pain in his stomach has the glass slipping from his fingers and a gasp leaving his lips as he hunches over. “...and then she said she wanted smoked - Neymar, are you okay?” Isco interrupts himself, rushing away from the table where the menu and several recipes are spread out in front of him and over to Neymar’s side.

His stomach cramps again, even worse than the first time and he groans, doubling over, hands on his belly. “I think there’s - fuck fuck - something wrong, Isco.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t panic. We’ll go to the hospital. I’ll call Kylian and -” Isco starts to say, already trying to help Neymar out to the car.

“No! Don’t tell Kylian! Not yet.” Neymar says desperately, he feels worse every passing second.

“But Ney, he’s gonna want to know.” Isco reasons, managing to get Neymar out of the kitchen and into his car as fast as he can.

“I’ll tell him if he needs to know. But we don’t know that there’s anything wrong. This could just be a stomach ache or something.” Neymar clutches at Isco’s shirt, staring at him, he tries to blink his tears back, doesn’t know whether he’s crying out of fear or pain.

“Okay. Fine. But know that I am protesting this!” Isco says, heading towards to hospital as Neymar shuddering in pain next to him.

“Duly noted.” Neymar mumbles through clenched teeth. This isn’t just a stomach ache, he fears.

A splash from Jesse’s side of the work station has Kylian leaning around the hood of the car he’s working on, a questioning look on his face. “Jesse?”

“I think my water broke.” Jesse says, eyeing the puddle underneath his chair, he looks little pale and scared.

“I thought you weren’t due for another two weeks!” Kylian says, frozen in place.

“Well, guess he’s early like his dad.” Jesse grumbles, mentally cursing Marcus for getting him pregnant.

“Okay, well, hospital it is then!” Kylian finally moves, grabbing some clean towels from his office and layering them over the passenger seat before helping Jesse into the truck.

“Goddamn!” Jesse exclaims, finally managing to hoist himself into the truck.

Kylian gets in on the other side. “You want me to call Marcus?”

“No, I’ll do it. I need to yell at him. You just drive.” Jesse says, snagging his phone out of the cup holder. He thumbs through his contacts, wincing ever so often before tapping Marcus’s name. He puts it on speaker phone and rests it on his belly as it rings and rings.

“Hi, you’ve reached Marcus Rashford. Sorry I can’t answer the phone…” Jesse groans and hangs up before the greeting can finish playing.

“Fuck, okay. I’ll call Ander.” Jesse mumbles, flicking once more through his contacts as he keeps breathing deeply to keep himself calm, something he's not very good at.

“Good idea.” Kylian mumbles, pushing the speed limit as much as he dares. Neymar would kill him if he got another ticket.

“Hey Ander. It’s Jesse. Can I talk to Marcus, please? Tell him it’s an emergency.” Jesse says, one hand rubbing at his belly absently. Kylian drums his hands on the wheel, glaring at a red light and glancing over at Jesse. “Marcus, get your ass to the hospital. Your child is about to be here.” Jesse says, shifting in his seat again. Kylian can hear Marcus’s whoop of joy on the other end of the line and he grins, thinking about his own excitement when this moment happens for him and Neymar. Jesse hangs up the phone and drops it back into the cup holder. “Fuck. This is really happening.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna be a daddy soon.” Kylian grins at him, pulling into the hospital parking lot, not really bothering to park neatly. He hurries over to Jesse’s side of the truck and helps him out, chuckling at Jesse’s shell-shocked expression, as if the fact that he’s about to have a kid has finally hit him. He gets him out and helps him waddle into the hospital, leading him up to the counter. “He’s in labor, so like, some help would be great.” Kylian says to the nurse there.

She looks up at him, looks at Jesse, and grins, coming around to help Jesse. “Hello, Jesse. Baby is coming early, isn’t he?”

“A bit, yeah.” Jesse lets her guide him to a wheelchair that an orderly has pulled up for him, having seen them walking in.

“Where’s Marcus?” Nurse Lily glances at Kylian.

“On his way. He was at work. This is my friend, Kylian.” Jesse gestures at Kylian, who smiles sheepishly.

“Alright then. Let’s get you up to the maternity ward and I’ll page Doctor Dier.” Nurse Lily says, pushing the wheelchair to the elevator. Kylian follows along behind, making a mental note to call Neymar when Marcus gets there.

 

Isco paces around the waiting room, absently gnawing on his thumbnail. He wants to call Kylian, but Neymar had been clear in what he wanted and that was not Kylian right now. He had no idea what was going on. The doctors had whisked Neymar away as soon as Isco was done explaining the problem to them.

He had been shuffled off to the waiting room with only stale coffee and old magazines to keep him company. He’s desperately worried about Neymar and the baby and is praying to every God he can think of to keep them safe, but there’s still a nagging feeling in his gut that says something is very wrong. Isco’s learned to trust that feeling more often than not, but he’s hoping with every fiber of his being that he’s wrong. He wants to be wrong for once, just about this. A doctor steps into the room and looks at him. “Are you Francisco Alarcon?”

“Yes. How’s Neymar? Is he okay?” Isco asks, frantic.

“He’s awake and asking for you. He requested that he be the one to tell you what’s going on, so if you’ll come with me?” The doctor leads him down the hall and into Neymar’s room. Neymar is sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a hospital gown. He’s staring at the floor when Isco walks in. The doctor takes his leave quietly, shutting the door behind him.

“Ney, what’s wrong? What happened?” Isco rushes around to face Neymar.

“I lost the baby.” Neymar’s voice is so small and broken that Isco nearly misses the words, his body is shuddering violently.

“Oh, Neymar.” Isco wraps Neymar in a hug, hands stroking his hair and Neymar breacks in his arms sobbing so hard that is impossible.

Isco already feels his shirt getting damp. He pulls back after a minute and his red-rimmed eyes are determined. “I want to go home.”

“Shouldn’t you stay? I mean, they might want you to stay or something.” Isco protests weakly, knowing that if Neymar pushes, he’ll give in.

“I’m, I’m not okay, but I still want to go home and I’ve already checked out AMA.” Neymar admits, looking down and scrubbing a hand over his face, his head is pounding like a jackhammer and he feels disgusted by himself, by how week his body is.

“Do you want me to call Kylian?” Isco asks, hand on Neymar’s knee.

“No! No, I’ll deal with him later.” Neymar sighs, standing up and heading to the chair where his clothes are folded neatly. He picks them up and takes them into the bathroom and changes, stepping out a moment later.

“Neymar, you shouldn’t deal with this by yourself.” Isco says, watching Neymar shrug his jacket on.

“I’m not.” Neymar says shortly, sitting down to put his shoes on.

“I’m just worried about you.” Isco rests a hand on Neymar’s shoulder.

“Well, don’t be.” Neymar snaps, standing up and walking out of the room. Isco sighs and follows, listening to the nurse explain the paperwork to Neymar and tell him where he needs to sign.

All too soon, they’re on their way back out of the hospital. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Home.” Neymar curls up against the door, resting his head on the window.

“Do you want me to cancel your meeting today?” Isco asks as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Yeah.” Neymar sighs, breath fogging up the window briefly. The rest of the ride is silent and Isco can’t help but shoot worried glances at Neymar the entire trip home.


	2. Chapter 2

Neymar settles in his office, wine glass in hand. He doesn’t keep any alcohol in the fridge when he was pregnant, but he still has a wine fridge in his office.

He curls up in his chair and puts the bottle on the desk in front of him. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and listens to Kylian’s voicemail before deleting it and draining his glass of wine. He pours himself another one and settles back in his chair, one hand resting on his stomach.

He swallows against the lump in his throat as he thinks about the baby he lost. It’s his fault, of course. His own body that couldn’t handle the pregnancy, that got rid of their baby. Kylian is going to be so furious and so hurt. He had been looking forward to being a father and now Neymar has ruined that for him.

Neymar takes a sip of wine and swirls it around in the glass. His hand strokes absently over his empty belly and he sighs, drinking the rest of the wine left in his glass before pouring himself another one. He knows he shouldn’t be getting drunk because he still needs to have a conversation with Kylian about this, but he can’t help it. He lost his baby today and if anything warrants him getting drunk, it’s this.

He feels empty, hollow. He never really got to feel the life growing inside of him, never felt the baby kick, never felt anything, really. But he feels the loss of the baby, the ache in his chest, the pounding in his head. He doesn’t know what to do now. They hadn’t even picked out a name, didn’t even know the sex of the baby yet. He was barely three months along. He blinks back tears. He’s not going to cry. He’s got to be strong for when Kylian gets here.

Right on cue, he hears Kylian’s voice calling his name from downstairs. He sighs and swallows half of the wine in his glass before turning to face the open door of his office, waiting on Kylian.

 

Kylian pulls into the driveway, noticing that Neymar’s car isn’t parked in it. He glances at his cell phone as he gets out of the truck, but there’s no missed calls or texts. He sighs and shoves it back into his pocket, making his way to the door, which he finds unlocked. He frowns, creeping in slowly, hoping it’s just Isco or Neymar.

“Neymar? Babe, you home?” He calls out, checking the living room and the kitchen before heading upstairs.

“Neymar?” He calls out again, getting no answer.

He walks past Neymar’s office and pokes his head in, finding Neymar sitting at his desk, watching Kylian carefully.

“Hey, babe. Didn’t you hear me calling you? What are you doing home so early?” Kylian asks, coming into the room.

“I heard you.” Neymar answers slowly. There’s a distinct blur to his voice, Brazilian accent thicker, that he gets when he’s been drinking.

Kylian glances at the half empty wine glass in Neymar’s hand to the open bottle on the desk beside Neymar. “Why are you drinking? You know that’s bad for the baby.”

Neymar drinks the rest of the wine in his glass. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What doesn’t matter?” Kylian frowns, not understanding. Anger is something you rarely found in Kylian expression, but Neymar can clearly see it when stare at him.

“I had a miscarriage today. There is no baby anymore.” Neymar says calmly, pouring himself another glass of wine.

Kylian feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He gasps, bracing himself on the edge of Neymar’s desk, staring at Neymar. “W-When? How? Why didn’t you call me?”

“What could you have done? Nothing. It was earlier today. Isco took me to the hospital. I signed myself out after. Doesn’t matter now.” Neymar mutters, sipping at his wine, staring at the bottle instead of looking at Kylian, he feels more heartbroken Kylian is too young to deal with this shit.

Kylian comes around to Neymar’s side of the desk, anger and sadness is replaced with concern. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“What happened was one minute, I was pregnant, the next I wasn’t. I’m physically okay. My body couldn’t handle the pregnancy, so it decided to get rid of the baby.” Neymar says, voice soft and detached, there is no emotion in his voice. It scares Kylian.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” Kylian reaches out to hug Neymar, but Neymar shoves him back with a hand on his chest.

“Don’t touch me.” Neymar snaps, flicking an irritated glance at Kylian.

Kylian is startled by Neymar’s reaction. “Neymar?”

“I don’t want you to touch me.” Neymar says again, running his fingertip around the rim of his glass.

“Why can’t I touch you?” Kylian asks, kneeling in front of Neymar.

“Because I fucking killed our child. How can you even stand to look at me, much less touch me?” Neymar doesn’t yell, not quite, but he’s loud, leaning out of his chair and into Kylian’s face.

“Hey, no. No, you didn’t. You can’t think like that. It wasn’t your fault.” Kylian reaches out to Neymar again, only to have his hands shoved away again.

“Yes, it is! I know it is! You know it is! Even Isco knows it is!” Neymar snaps, his body shaking with anger.

“Ney, no. No one thinks it’s your fault. Things happen and they don’t always work out like we want them to and it’s terrible, but it’s not your fault.” Kylian pulls Neymar into his lap, gathering him in his arms.

Neymar struggles against him. “I said don’t fucking touch me!”

Kylian ignores him, plucking the wine glass from his fingers before it spills all over them and wrapping his arms around Neymar, suddenly Neymar calms down and all the non-sense and frustration flood in his eyes, running down in his cheeks, the sound rips from his throat is more like a wounded person with a scar in the stomach. Neymar squirms and tries to free himself after some moments. “Let go of me, Kylian. I’m fucking serious!” Kylian doesn’t let go, just holds on tighter and rocks Neymar back and forth.

Neymar manages to get an arm free and twists around enough to slap Kylian across the face. “I said don’t fucking touch me.”

Kylian lets his arms fall to his sides, stunned. Neymar climbs back into his chair, snatches his wine glass from the floor, and glares at Kylian. “Get out.”

Kylian gets to his feet and stares at Neymar, who won’t look at him. He turns and walks out of Neymar’s office, closing the door behind him. He leans back against it and lets the tears he was holding back fall down his cheeks. A few seconds later, he hears a scream of rage from Neymar and the tinkling sound of glass shattering against the heavy wood door.

He walks down to his garage, ignoring the way his hands shake as he picks up his tools. He stares down at the engine he’s supposed to be rebuilding and resists the urge to destroy it.

 

Jesse flops back against the pillows behind him, exhausted. Marcus is holding Lee in the rocking chair, cooing quietly to him. Jesse smiles at them, still in awe that he brought that tiny bundle of baby into the world.Marcus catches his eye and grins back at him. “We did good.”

“Very good.” Jesse agrees, gesturing for Marcus to come to him on the bed. Marcus gets up and Jesse makes room, tugging him carefully down onto the bed with him. “He’s got your body he’s ganna be fit.” Marcus chuckles at that.

“You and your strange mind.” Marcus counters softly as Lee snuffles in his sleep.

“I can’t believe we’re parents now.” Jesse admits, fingers stroking over the hairs on Lee’s head.

“Better start believing it when you’re up at two in the morning, feeding him.” Marcus chuckles, rocking Lee gently in his arms.

“You’re gonna be right there with me.” Jesse nudges Marcus’s side with his elbow, still staring down at his son in awe.

“He’s so little.” Marcus mumbles, stroking a fingertip across Lee’s forehead.

Jesse snorts. “He’s like two hours old. Of course he’s little.”

“You say that like you weren’t obsessed with his fingers and toes when you held him the first time.” Marcus rolls his eyes, pressing a kiss to the side of Jesse’s head.

“You can prove nothing.” Jesse says with a smirk. Marcus just shakes his head and goes back to rocking Lee, murmuring to him softly every time he shifts in his sleep. Jesse drifts off, listening to Marcus coo to their son, smiling at the thought.

 

Neymar sits in his office, drinking straight from the wine bottle now, since he threw his glass and shattered it. The wine has dried on the floor, leaving behind a sticky residue among the glass shards he has yet to clean up. He half-expected Kylian to burst back in at his scream, but he didn’t and well, Neymar isn’t that surprised.

He gets up from the desk, one hand gripping the edge of it tightly, the other clinging to the neck of the wine bottle, and staggers over to the couch, more drunk than he thought he was. He flops down with a groan and sits the bottle on the floor within easy grabbing distance and flings an arm over his eyes.

He’s a little ashamed that he hit Kylian, but mostly anger still licks away at his insides, burning him up and making him see red every time he thinks about it. He told Kylian to not touch him. He told him and Kylian ignored him. Kylian says he doesn’t blame him, but Neymar knows that isn’t true. How can Kylian not blame him? He deserves it. He killed their baby.

He gropes blindly for the wine bottle and picks it up, taking a swallow of it. He knows he’s to blame and Kylian does to. He just won’t admit it. But Neymar knows the truth. He can see it in Kylian’s eyes when he looks at him. How he avoids touching his stomach and avoids looking at its flatness now. He might not admit it, but Neymar knows. Neymar always fucking knows.

He finishes off the wine and lets it roll out of his lax hand onto the floor. He sinks into an uneasy sleep, anger and alcohol burning him up.

 

Kylian stays down in the garage, tinkering with the engine, but ultimately getting nothing done, well into the night. It’s past midnight when he finally comes into the house, heading for their bedroom. He passes Neymar’s office, but doesn’t open the door. He rests his hand on the knob for a moment, considering, but decides against it, running his other hand across his cheek.

He takes a shower, dries off, and changes into a pair of sleep pants. He gets into bed, ignoring the fact that Neymar isn’t there with him, and stares up at the dark ceiling. There’s a burning in his eyes and he blinks, letting the tears fall. He’s not ashamed of them. If there ever was a time to cry, the loss of his child, one he never even got to know, to hold, to cherish, this is it.

He turns towards Neymar’s side of the bed, grabbing his pillow and hugging it to his chest, breathing in the scent that clings to the fabric. He cries, letting the pillow muffle his sobs, aching with the loss. It hurts. It hurts more than anything he’s ever known before. They hadn’t even picked a name yet.

He ignores the nagging voice in the back of his head that says Neymar should be in his arms, not just his fucking pillow. He’s trying so hard not to be angry with him, but he can’t help it. Neymar didn’t need to lash out him when he was only trying to help him, trying to comfort him. They both suffered a loss today, but Kylian can’t even imagine what Neymar is going through. The overwhelming need to protect him makes him clench his hands in the pillow and press his face harder against it.

His tears soak the pillow and he gasps for air, eventually managing to calm himself down. He sits up, the pillow in his lap as he wipes his face with shaking fingers. He thinks about going to Neymar again, trying to talk to him, but Neymar probably still doesn’t want to see him and he certainly doesn’t want to be slapped again, so he lays back down in bed. He hugs Neymar’s pillow to his chest and sighs.

He doesn’t get much sleep that night.

 

“Looks like everything is great with father and baby, so we’ll get the discharge papers going and have you all on your way in a bit, okay?” Doctor Dier smiles at them all.

“Good. I’m sick of hospital food and this bed sucks.” Jesse grumbles, cradling Lee on his chest while Marcus hovers around him.

“Can’t say I blame you. Not a fan of the food or the beds either.” Doctor Dier laughs, patting Jesse’s leg before slipping out of the room, clipboard tucked under her arm. Marcus watches Jesse stroke his hand carefully over Lee’s tiny back for a moment before he finishes packing up the diaper bag the hospital had given them.

Jesse watches for a moment. “Did you put the car seat in the car?”

“Yeah. Did it this morning before you woke up.” Marcus nods.

Jesse nods, shifting Lee on his chest. “You wanna take him so I can change?” Marcus walks over to them, carefully picking Lee up and rocking him in his arms gently when he makes an unhappy noise at being moved. Jesse presses a quick kiss to Marcus’s cheek, hand stroking over Lee’s tufts of hair before he picks up his pile of clothes and disappears into the bathroom to change quickly, mindful that a nurse or doctor could walk into his room.   
Marcus grins down at Lee, who blinks up at him. “You got your daddy’s eyes, yes you do!”

Lee just stares at him, wide bright brown eyes as he stares at Marcus. Jesse comes back into the room, fully dressed.

“Mr. Lingard?” A nurse pokes her head into the room.

“That’s me. Got my papers ready?” He asks.

“Yes sir. They’ll be at the nurses’ station when you’re ready to go.” She smiles and ducks back out.

“Ready?” Marcus asks.

“Ready. Got everything?” Jesse asks, glancing around the room one last time.

“Yep. Everything is packed.” Marcus nods.

“Okay. Let’s blow this popsicle stand. What do you say, Lee?” Jesse asks, grinning.

Lee coos at him and flails an arm into Marcus’s chest. “I think he’s ready.”

 

Neymar wakes up the next morning with a headache and the knowledge that he’s not pregnant anymore. It’s a pretty shitty morning already and he’s only been up a few minutes. He stares down at the sparkling shards of glass on his floor and groans. He’s gonna have to clean that up.

He opens the door and edges around the mess carefully, mindful of his bare feet. He walks into the kitchen and freezes at the sight of Kylian sitting at the table, a cup of coffee by his hand, reading the Sports section of the newspaper.

There’s a faint bruise coloring Kylian’s cheekbone and Neymar flushes with shame at the reminder of what he’s done. Kylian doesn’t even look up at him as he comes into the kitchen, heading for the cleaning closet and taking out the broom, an old rag, and some Scrubbing Bubbles spray.

He wants to talk to Kylian, wants to bridge the gap that’s between them, but he doesn’t know how and Kylian certainly isn’t giving him any hints, so he goes back to his office and cleans up the mess he made, wishing every mess was this easy to clean. He heads back to the kitchen and puts everything back in its place. He leans against the door when he’s done, looking at Kylian’s back.

He walks slowly over to Kylian’s side and hesitantly brushes his fingers over the bruise on Kylian’s cheek. Kylian doesn’t react, just continues reading the newspaper like Neymar isn’t standing there at all. Neymar lets his hand fall back to his side. Kylian turns the page and folds the paper down.

Neymar blinks against the sudden burning in his eyes, face flushing with heat as he turns away from Kylian. He doesn’t know what to say, for once in his life, when it matters the most, he’s speechless. He goes back to his office and closes the door behind him, sinking to his knees in front of it.

He buries his face in his hands and sobs helplessly. He wants Kylian’s comfort, his warmth, his love. But he deserves none of that for what he did and he knows that. It doesn’t make it hurt any less though.

 

Kylian sighs and he gets up from the table, almost going after Neymar, but he changes his mind. He’s still smarting over the slap and Neymar’s refusal of his touch. He just wants to hold Neymar and make everything hurt a little bit less for them both.

He walks outside, intending to head to Papa Het’s for the day when he sees Marcus and Jesse getting out of their car next door. They wave at him and gesture him over, so he goes, curious to see how everything went yesterday. Jesse looks considerably flatter, so he assumes it went well. Sure enough, Jesse is unbuckling a tiny baby from the car seat and cooing to him. “Meet your Uncle Kyky!”

“Wanna hold him?” Marcus asks, grinning brightly at Kylian. There’s a sharp ache in his chest, but he nods and smiles as Jesse places Lee in his arms and he looks down into brown eyes. He allows himself a moment to imagine this is his child and that Neymar is standing next to him, beaming the proud grin of a new parent. He could almost pretend, looking down into Lee’s eyes.

“Isn’t he amazing?” Jesse asks, bouncing on his toes next to them.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s great.” Kylian gives him a smile, automatically rocking Lee a little as he starts to fuss quietly.

“See? You’re already a natural! You’re going to be a great father!” Jesse exclaims, beaming at Kylian.

Kylian passes Lee back to Jesse, the ache in his chest throbbing now. “Uh. Maybe. Not for a while though.”

“Well, you won’t have to wait long. Isn’t Neymar about three months along? The other six will go by so fast.” Marcus nods, hoisting the diaper bag over his shoulder.

Kylian sniffs and blinks rapidly for a moment. “He uh he had a miscarriage yesterday.”

“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” Marcus breathes out, fingers tightening around the strap of the bag.

“Shit, man. I’m sorry.” Jesse offers from beside him, clutching Lee to him just a tiny bit more.

“We didn’t mean to just spring all this on you. We wouldn’t have done that if we had known.” Marcus says, frowning in concern.

“No, it’s okay. You didn’t know. I enjoyed meeting Lee. He’s precious.” Kylian clears his throat.

“How’s Neymar doing?” Jesse asks, eyes full of sympathy.

“He won’t talk to me, so I don’t know.” Kylian admits, looking away from them.

“I’m sure he’ll open up soon. I can’t imagine being in his place and dealing with that.” Marcus reaches out and squeezes Kylian’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Well, I gotta go. Gonna head up to the garage. I’ll see you guys later.” Kylian says, turning and walking away, waving over his shoulder.

 

Neymar stands at the window in his office, watching Jesse and Marcus get home. He eyes Jesse’s flat torso and guesses that he had his baby and has his suspicions confirmed a few moments later when Kylian comes over and Jesse lets him hold the baby.

Neymar watches Kylian hold the child, smiling down at him, rocking him carefully. His heart breaks all over again at the look of happiness on Kylian’s face. Kylian had wanted to be a dad since they found out his pregnant. Neymar had been on the fence about it, but the more that he thought about it and thought about Kylian, the more he wanted kids too.

He watches Kylian hand the baby back over to Jesse and winces at the look of anguish on Kylian’s face as he says something to them. Neymar assumes he’s telling them what happened to him, judging by the looks on their faces when he finishes. He feels a brief burst of anger at Kylian for sharing something so personal, but Kylian needs to talk to someone, and if it can’t be him, then why not them? They’d understand somewhat, being new parents themselves.

Neymar lets the curtains flutter back into the place as Kylian comes back over to their front yard, getting into his truck and driving away. He didn’t bother to tell Neymar he was leaving or where he was going. There wasn’t a goodbye kiss and Neymar aches for all that he’s lost. He’s pretty sure he’s losing Kylian and he doesn’t really blame him. He wouldn’t stay with him after this either. Losing their baby was bad enough, but then shutting him out and hitting him? He’s definitely ruined things between them.

His ringing cell phone distracts him and he walks over to his desk and picks it up, hoping it’s Kylian. Isco’s name flashes across the screen and Neymar declines the call. A few seconds later, it chimes, letting him know that Isco left him a message. He doesn’t listen to it. He digs out another bottle of wine and opens it, not even bothering with a glass this time.

 

Jesse lies back against his pillows, Lee snuggled on his chest. He runs his palm up and down Lee’s back, assuring himself that Lee is there and well. Marcus catches sight of the troubled look on Jesse’s face.

“Thinking about Neymar?” He asks, sitting next to Jesse’s feet, resting one hand on his ankle.

“Yeah. Like I can’t even begin to fathom dealing with that kind of loss.” Jesse admits, pressing a kiss to the top of Lee’s head.

“I can’t even think about where his head must be at right now.” Marcus says, fingers pressing into Jesse’s skin.

“I know. I can’t either. I feel bad for saying all that stuff to Kylian too, about being a great dad. Talk about shoving my foot in my mouth.” Jesse grumbles.

“Hey, you didn’t know. Honest mistake.” Marcus squeezes Jesse’s ankle.

“I know, I know, I still feel bad though.” Jesse tucks his chin down on his chest.

“He’s not mad at you or anything. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You want something to eat?” Marcus asks, changing gears to get Jesse’s mind off of it.

“Yeah.” Jesse says with a nod.

“Anything in particular?” Marcus asks, getting to his feet.

“Whatever’s fine. I’m starving.” Jesse answers with a smirk.

“You’re always starving.” Marcus rolls his eyes.

“Hey, who just had a baby here? Not you!” Jesse sticks his tongue out at Marcus. Marcus shakes his head and heads to the kitchen to figure out what to make for lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked it, feel free and tell me what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

Isco knocks on the front door and gets no response. He knows Neymar is home. Kylian called him earlier and asked him to stop by and check on Neymar. He sighs and flicks through his key ring, unlocking the door and stepping inside.

“Neymar?” He calls out and gets no answer in return.

He doesn’t bother with checking the living room or kitchen. He knows Neymar will be in his office, curled up around a bottle of wine and hopefully not too wasted, if Isco is lucky.

He knocks on Neymar’s office door, mostly to let him know that he’s here and then opens it. Neymar is laying on the couch, one arm flung over his eyes, the other dangling off the edge, bottle clutched in his fingers. Isco sighs and steps into the room, closing the door behind him. Neymar doesn’t stir.

“I know you’re awake.” Isco says, walking over to him.

“Doesn’t mean I want to talk.” Neymar mumbles, accent blurring his words slightly.

“Well, I’m here anyway, so you might as well.” Isco shifts Neymar’s legs until he can sit down on the end of the couch and places Neymar’s feet in his lap.

“You want me to tell you all about how Kylian hates me because I killed our baby?” Neymar asks, pushing himself up onto his elbows and staring Isco down with red-rimmed eyes.

“You know he doesn’t hate you or blame you for what happened.” Isco says calmly.

“Oh yeah? How the fuck would you know?” Neymar sneers, lifting the wine bottle to his mouth and taking a swig.

“Because I know Kylian better than that and you do too.” Isco retorts.

“Well, if he didn’t hate me before, he certainly should now.” Neymar mutters, looking away from Isco.

“Neymar, I’m pretty sure you could rip his still beating heart out of his chest and he’d tell you it’s okay because he loves you. Come on now. You know better than that.” Isco says, pulling the bottle out of Neymar’s grasp.

“I slapped him.” Neymar admits quietly.

“What? Why?” Isco asks, looking shocked.

“Because he was trying to comfort me and I didn’t want him to and so I just slapped him.” Neymar says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What did he do?” Isco asks.

“Left me alone. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be around me either.” Neymar shrugs as best he can in his position.

“Did you apologize? Or at least talk about it?” Isco presses, leaning closer to Neymar.

“No. I slept in here last night and this morning he acted like I didn’t even exist.” Neymar rubs at his eyes, drunk enough that he doesn’t care if he’s crying in front of Isco.

“You have to talk to him about this. You can’t just let it fester and build up between the two of you. Nothing good will come of that.” Isco nods.

“He hates me, Isco.” Neymar whines, tipping his head up to glare at Isco.

“He doesn’t hate you, stop saying that.” Isco scolds him.

“He does hate me! I killed our baby, Isco! He fucking hates me for that. And he should. He should hate me and he should blame me because it’s my fucking fault! I ruined that for him and I’ll ruin his love and him and everything! He should hate me!” Neymar screams, face red, eyes filled with tears.

Isco pulls Neymar to him, hugging him tightly as he sobs against his chest. He mumbles soothing nonsense to him, stroking his back and letting him get it all out of his system. Slowly, Neymar calms down, reduced to quiet whimpers. Isco pulls back enough to look him in the eye.

“I know what happened was a terrible and devastating thing, but Kylian doesn’t hate you nor does he blame you for what happened. You’ve suffered a huge loss, both of you, and now is the time to come together and not let it rip you apart. Because it will, Neymar. Especially if you blame yourself for something you had absolutely no control over. You understand?” Isco lifts Neymar’s chin, forcing him to make eye contact.

“Yes. I know you’re right, but it just feels like it was my fault. My own body fucking betrayed me in this.” Neymar snaps, hand running over his belly.

Isco presses his lips to Neymar’s forehead. “I know it’s hard and it’s gonna take some time, but let Kylian help you, okay? This is not your burden to bear alone. He lost the baby too.”

Neymar nods, leaning against Isco for a moment. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Isco asks, looking confused.

“For being the best friend I need.” Neymar gives him a weak smile.

“Oh well, always.” Isco smiles back.

“Ugh, I think I’m sober now. I need a fucking shower.” Neymar complains, standing up from the couch.

Isco chuckles. “That I believe you can do on your own. Need anything else?”

“No, the kick in the ass and lecture was what I needed. I’ll talk to Kylian.” Neymar nods to himself.

“Good. Remember that it wasn’t your fault, Neymar.” Isco reaches out and pulls Neymar into a hug.

Neymar returns it, clutching at Isco’s shirt desperately for a moment before pulling back. “Thanks.”

 

Kylian goes to work, burying himself elbow-deep in grease and car parts, working himself until he doesn’t feel anything. Jordan watches him, concerned, but he doesn’t say anything, knowing when it’s better to stay away.

Five o’clock rolls around and Jordan comes to stand beside Kylian, leaning against the car he’s working on. “You gonna go home?”

Kylian grunts and doesn’t answer.

“What’s up, Kylian? You’ve been weird all day.” His younger assistant asks.

“Just shit with Neymar. We’ve been fighting.” Kylian wipes the sweat from his brow and straightens up from the car.

“You wanna talk about it?” Jordan asks.

“Not really.” Kylian grumbles, wiping his hands on the rag.

“Come on, it might help.” Jordan coaxes Kylian.

“It’s just a rough patch. We’ll get through it.” Kylian brushes him off, shutting the hood of the car and turning to clean up his work station.

“Well, if you wanna talk, you know where to find me.” Jordan moves away, heading to his own work station and starting to tidy that up before he leaves.

Kylian finishes up and heads home, dreading seeing Neymar. It doesn’t sit right with him, wanting to avoid Neymar. He gets out of his truck and sighs, leaning against the warm metal of the door. He grins when he sees Jesse and Marcus pushing a stroller down the sidewalk, both of them cooing to Lee and pointing things out to him.

They wave to him, pushing the stroller up his driveway. “Hey, look, Lee. It’s your Uncle Kylian.”

Marcus unbuckles Lee from the stroller and picks him up. “You wanna hold him?”

“Sure.” Kylian smiles and takes Lee from Marcus, cradling him gently in his arms.

“How are things with you and Neymar?” Jesse asks, shading his eyes from the sun.

“Tense. We haven’t talked yet.” Kylian admits, looking down at Lee.

“You know you have to talk to him.” Marcus points out, though not unkindly.

“I know. But that’s easier said than done. We’re both angry right now and that only leads to fighting.” Kylian mutters, but he smiles down at Lee and wiggles his fingers against his belly, making him coo happily.

“Well, yeah, but this is the two of you. You’ll make it through this.” Jesse says with a firm nod.

“I wish it felt like that right now.” Kylian says, looking up at Jesse and Marcus.

“Go talk to him. Don’t let him shut you out and don’t shut him out either.” Marcus advises, taking Lee when Kylian hands him back to him.

“I know. I just don’t know what to say to get him to open up to me.” Kylian kicks the ground, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“You’ll figure it out. You know each other this well. Don’t be stubborn.” Marcus carefully puts Lee back in the stroller and buckles him up.

Kylian sighs. “You’re right. I’ll talk to him. Thanks.”

“No problem. Holding Lee always helps.” Jesse beams at Kylian.

“Seems to.” Kylian smiles back, waving as they make their way back down the sidewalk to their house. Kylian watches them for a moment, marveling at the easy affection Jesse and Marcus have with each other. The way Jesse leans towards Marcus when Marcus speaks to him, the casual way Marcus slings an arm around Jesse’s slim waist.

He turns and heads into the house, hoping Neymar is in a better mood and is ready to talk. He’s surprised when he finds Neymar in the living room, curled up at the window seat, arms around his knees. He doesn’t look at Kylian when Kylian comes into the room.

“I’m sorry.” Neymar whispers hoarsely.

“What?” Kylian asks, taken aback.

“I’m sorry. For everything. Hurting you, hitting you, losing the baby. I’m sorry.” Neymar turns away from the window to look at Kylian.

Kylian kneels down next to Neymar, staring up at him. “Hey, hey, it’s not your fault.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you think it is my fault. If you hated me for it. Because I do.” Neymar turns away from him again.

“No, I can’t hate you and I don’t blame you. It wasn’t your fault.” Kylian tugs on Neymar’s hands, holding them.

“You should hate me. I killed our baby!” Neymar jerks his hands away from Kylian, curling up even farther away from him.

“Neymar, what happened was horrible and I feel that loss too, but it was in no way your fault.” Kylian says firmly.

Neymar presses a hand to his mouth, muffling his sob. Kylian draws him down into his arms, stroking a hand through his hair.

“Please don’t.” Neymar tries to pull away from him.

“Why are you pushing me away like this?” Kylian asks, a hint of frustration bleeding through his voice.

Neymar squirms out of his arms. “Because I don’t deserve you! I don’t deserve this! Your comfort, your love!”

“What are you talking about?” Kylian asks, standing up as Neymar does the same.

“What don’t you understand about this? I killed our child!” Neymar screams at him, face red.

“Stop saying that! You didn’t do anything wrong! Shit happens and it hurts and it’s horrible and it feels like nothing will ever be okay again, but you didn’t do anything wrong, Neymar!” Kylian yells back.

“You say that now, but what happens when you realize I’m right and you end up resenting me for it later on?” Neymar glares at Kylian.

“If I’m saying it now, I believe it now and I’ll believe it later too. Why can’t you understand that?” Kylian snaps back.

“Because you should hate me!” Neymar crumbles, turning away from Kylian.

“I will never hate you. I will never blame you. This isn’t your fault.” Kylian wraps his arms around Neymar, resting his chin on the top of his head.

Neymar twists out of Kylian’s hold, turning around to face him. “I don’t believe you, but if that’s what you want, then fine. I’m done talking about it.”

Kylian stares at him. “Don’t push me away again.”

Neymar takes a deep breath. “I’m not going to discuss this with you anymore.”

“Neymar, please. This isn’t going to help.” Kylian cups Neymar’s face.

“I don’t want to help anymore. I just want to move on and let it go. I don’t want to dwell on it, I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to move on with my life.” Neymar pushes Kylian’s hands away.

“If you don’t deal with it, it’s just going to fester inside of you and come out in more destructive ways, Ney.” Kylian says, letting his arms drop to his sides.

“Don’t fucking lecture me, Kylian. I will handle this in whatever way I fucking want to.” Neymar glares at him.

“I’m just trying to help you!” Kylian protests, feeling his own anger rising up.

“I don’t want your fucking help!” Neymar yells at him, fists clenched by his sides.

“Why are you being like this?” Kylian asks, trying to shove his anger down.

“Because I have to be.” Neymar says quietly, turning and walking away from Kylian, heading upstairs.

A few seconds later, the door to his office slams shut and Kylian flinches.

 

The days blend into weeks. Things are tense and quiet in Kylian and Neymar’s house. Neymar stays holed up in his office when he’s not out with a client or Isco. Kylian spends more time down in the garage, tinkering, or at work, or over at Marcus and Jesse’s, helping with Lee.

That’s where he finds himself one afternoon when the quiet is too suffocating in the house and he needs an escape. He knocks on their door and a frantic Jesse answers, pulling him into the house.

“You’re gonna hold Lee and see if he stops crying for you. We’ve tried everything, but he just won’t stop!” Jesse exclaims, shoving Kylian down on the couch.

Marcus hands him a crying Lee, face scrunched and red, and Kylian takes him, already whispering soothing noises to him. He leans back on the couch, shifting Lee to lay on his chest, humming to him. Lee quiets, face unscrunching, and blinks slowly, heavy-lidded and sleepy now.

“Fuck yes, baby whisperer!” Jesse crows, fist pumping.

Marcus just smiles at him. “Thanks. He hasn’t stopped crying in like hours.”

Kylian smiles at him, continuing to hum until Lee is sound asleep on his chest. He runs a hand over Lee’s tiny back, allowing himself another ‘what if’ moment, imagining Neymar curled up on his other side, head on his shoulder, before it hurts too much and he lets it slip away.

“You realize now this makes you the official baby whisperer and we’re gonna call you when we need a good baby whispering, right?” Jesse asks, sagging down on the couch next to Kylian.

Kylian smirks. “That’s fine. I’m obviously good at it.”

“How are things with you and Ney?” Marcus asks, sitting next to Jesse and draping an arm over his shoulders.

“Not great.” Kylian says, looking down at Lee.

“Did you ever talk about what happened? Get it worked out?” Jesse asks, nosey as ever.

“Kind of. It’s complicated.” Kylian admits, pressing a kiss to the top of Lee’s head.

“Complicated?” Marcus presses.

“He decided he never wants to talk about it again and ever since then, things are tense and awkward. He doesn’t even sleep in the bedroom anymore. He sleeps in his office. He’s always out with a client or holed up in his office. I know I’m not helping things either, but I don’t know how anymore. I’m giving him the space he wants, but I just feel like there’s too much space and I don’t want it anymore.” Kylian explains quietly.

“You love him, right?” Marcus asks, looking Kylian in the eyes.

“Of course I love him.” Kylian blinks at Marcus.

“Well, then figure out how to make it better. If he’s not going to do it, then you have to. I know it sucks having to be the one to reach out and face his wrath, but if things are going to get better, then you have to do something.” Marcus says firmly.

“I know. I’m just tired of fighting with him. It hurts and it just feels wrong, you know?” Kylian frowns.

“I know, but you have to do it if you don’t want things to get worse than they are already are.” Marcus says, reaching over Jesse to pat Kylian’s leg.

“How’s he doing though? We haven’t seen much of him lately.” Jesse asks, glancing at Marcus.

“When I see him in passing, he looks tired, but that’s nothing new. Like I said, he doesn’t talk to me.” Kylian shrugs.

“Jesse thinks Ney is avoiding him because of Lee.” Marcus says, earning himself a smack from Jesse.

“It wouldn’t surprise me.” Kylian admits, looking at Jesse with concern.

“Yeah. I figured as much.” Jesse’s face falls though.

“I’m sorry. It’s not really anything to do with you personally, but you know. He doesn’t want any reminders and this little guy is a pretty big one.” Kylian nods down at Lee.

“I know. I don’t want to hurt him, but I’m starting to kind of miss the little fucker.” Jesse huffs a sigh.

“I’m sure he’ll come around. Just give him time.” Kylian says, giving Jesse a small smile.

“Back to you, I think you need to do something about you and him now too.” Marcus points out.

“Yeah, I need to talk to him.” Kylian says, shifting Lee on his chest.

Jesse gently takes Lee from Kylian and soothes him quickly. Kylian stands up. “Thanks for the help.”

“Anytime. Thanks for getting him to stop crying.” Jesse grins at him as he heads for the front door.

Kylian waves over his shoulder.

 

Neymar props his feet up on the desk. “I didn’t call you to get another lecture about Kylian, Isco.”

“Well, it’s not my fault you haven’t patched things up with him yet.” Isco says and Neymar can practically see the eye roll he’s getting.

“No, but you don’t have to keep harping on it.” Neymar grumbles.

“I’m going to until you fix things with him. I know it still hurts, but you can’t let this rip you apart.” Isco says sharply.

“I know, okay. I fucking know, okay? Get off my back about it.” Neymar complains, spinning his chair around.

“Then do something! Stop being a stubborn ass about it and reach out to him.” Isco snaps at him, finally irritated.

“That’s not as easy as you make it sound, Isco. The whole thing has been going on for weeks. I don’t know what to do about it anymore.” Neymar sighs, slumping in his chair.

“You’re smart. You’ll think of something.” Isco says encouragingly.

“I guess.” Neymar huffs.

“I’m gonna let you go. Let me know how it goes.” Isco says cheerfully before hanging up.

Neymar drops his phone on his desk and sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. This has gone on long enough. He has to fix things with Kylian. He’s tired of sleeping alone in his office. He misses Kylian. They haven’t so much as kissed since that last big fight and Neymar misses him so much, it’s an ache in his chest.

He gets up out of his chair and heads downstairs, freezing halfway down when the front door opens and Kylian steps inside. He looks up at Neymar and meets his eyes.

“Kylian, we need to talk.” Neymar says after a moment.

“Yeah, we do.” Kylian nods.

“But first, I really need to do this.” Neymar walks down the rest of the steps to Kylian, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him down into a kiss. Kylian tenses, surprised, before kissing Neymar fiercely, arms around his waist. Neymar moans, sinking into Kylian’s embrace. Neymar pulls away from him before the kiss gets too intense.

“Talk first.” Neymar says softly, looking up at Kylian.

“Yeah, okay.” Kylian takes Neymar’s hand and leads him into the kitchen and they sit at the table facing each other.

Neymar takes a deep breath, looking down at the wooden top of the table, dragging a nail along the grain. He looks up at Kylian. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you. It’s not been fair to you because I know you’ve been hurting too because of me. I know I should have been there for you and let you be there for me. I was too busy being selfish and burying myself in my own pain to realize that you needed me too. I’m sorry.”

Kylian comes around to Neymar’s side of the table and cups his face in his hands. “I shouldn’t have ignored you either. I should have given you the space when you asked, but I shouldn’t have let you push me away and I should have tried harder for you.”

Neymar rests his hands over Kylian. “We both made mistakes. Now we can fix them and move on.”

“Are you gonna come back to bed with me tonight?” Kylian asks, smiling gently at Neymar.

“Yeah, I’m tired of sleeping alone.” Neymar returns Kylian’s smile.

Kylian leans down and kisses Neymar again, not wanting to let go of him. Neymar whimpers into the kiss, pushing back against Kylian, tightening his grip on Kylian’s hands.

The kiss ends and Kylian rests his forehead against Neymar’s. “I missed you, sweetheart.”

“I missed you too,Kyky. I’m so fucking sorry I did this to us.” Neymar says, voice hoarse.

“Hey, we’re making it better. It’s okay.” Kylian strokes his thumbs over Neymar’s cheekbones.

Neymar sniffs, blinking back the sudden wetness in his eyes. “Yeah. Is there anything you wanted to talk about? Because I’m willing to now.”

“No. I don’t want to make this harder on you. What happened happened and it’s in the past and we can mourn, but we shouldn’t linger over it. It wouldn’t be healthy. But I’m always here to listen if you need to talk.” Kylian presses his lips to Neymar’s forehead.

“You’re not the only one I need to make things up with either. I’ve been avoiding Marcus and Jesse and I know they’ve probably noticed.” Neymar admits as Kylian sits down next to him, holding one of his hands.

“Yeah, Jesse asked me about that. I didn’t really know what to tell him.” Kylian admits.

“It was just so hard when they had a healthy baby and I didn’t. I was so angry and jealous of them. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on them by ignoring them. That wasn’t fair of me.” Neymar sighs.

“You wanna go over there, meet Lee?” Kylian asks cautiously.

“You think they’ll want me to?” Neymar asks, hopefully.

“Yeah. I know Jesse will love it.” Kylian grins at him.


End file.
